


Delirium

by BostonAndSchwerin



Series: Capriccio [2]
Category: Star Wars, Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Prequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Anakin Skywalker is a Little Shit, Double contract killers, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt Anakin Skywalker, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Missions Gone Wrong, NYC Setting, They started to save each other, Whump, obikin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2021-01-12
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:21:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,387
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28088448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BostonAndSchwerin/pseuds/BostonAndSchwerin
Summary: “Why do you think I need a rest?”That’s funny, Obi-Wan thought. This boy, Anakin Skywalker, who he had just met once before today, who ruined his two businesses together within one hour and caused him a five million dollar loss, showed up today in front of his door, unexpectedly, to be exact, twelve minutes ago.And he was injured, again, much worse than last time.
Relationships: Obi-Wan Kenobi/Anakin Skywalker
Series: Capriccio [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2057535
Comments: 22
Kudos: 41





	1. Obi-Wan

**Author's Note:**

> Happened several months after Rough Night (part one), they were both contract killers in this story, so they were not typical good people you know ;)

He added a little bit Rum into that hot chocolate. While he believed the pure chocolate would seem a little aggressive at some point, like he was treating him as a kid, except for the fact he was a kid.

He couldn’t help but smiled.

“Here, it would help with your sleep.” He handed that drink.

The boy in front of him made a face. He looked annoyed, but he took the cup anyway.

“Why do you think I need a rest?”

That’s funny, he thought. This boy, Anakin Skywalker, who he had just met once before today, who ruined his two businesses together within one hour and caused him a five million  dollar loss, showed up today in front of his door, unexpectedly, to be exact, twelve minutes ago.

And he was injured, again, much worse than last time.

“I think that’s why you came?” He stepped closer:“You’re bleeding, kid.” He reached a hand to the boy’s neck :“And burning up.”

Anakin snorted, just snorted, as if he’d got no energy to fight back. He took a sip of the drink he offered, then leaned heavily on the couch, his forearm over his eyes.

“Obi-Wan...”He started, sounded wary.

“Yes?”

“Just one night...I’ll sleep on the couch.”

No a “please” word, but Obi-Wan knew the boy was desperate, desperate enough to come to him at the first place.

He felt suddenly intense somehow. Strange empathy, again, out of nowhere. He just let Anakin live last time because of this strange bloody empathy.

Hiding something, he was. Obi-Wan thought. He’d heard that Sith was planning to take over something lately, maybe what happened tonight was part of the plan. He hadn’t watched the news today.

Did someone get murdered? Or anyone important got hurt? Did Sith fail? What would happen if Sith failed? To Anakin Skywalker, specifically?

He thought of the scars, Anakin’s scars.

“I’ll leave by noon, I promise...”He stopped, as if trying to put words together for what's next...

“And you could have me if you want.”

Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow.

He knew what it meant, for sure. He would ask what it would mean, anyways.

“Define ‘having you’.”

That’s the word making Anakin put his hand down. Now those beautiful, tired eyes were locking back on him.

“To finish what we missed last time.” He already looked too pale, he might faint at any minute.

“You are not a prostitute.”

And what the fuck he thought he was?

“Still need something to pay you back though...You quite like me, don’t you?”

“Enough nonsense. And very impressive fever talk.” He chose to ignore the question, of course, and he did not want to argue with an unreasonable kid thanks to his condition: “Now I need to get you stitched up.”

“I’ll take it as a Yes.”

“How about ‘thank you’?”

“Thank you, Obi...Ben...”

He watched as Anakin let out a heavy breath, and slowly curled up on the couch, the boy rested his head on his arm, no more requests, and closed his eyes.

He was about to say ‘your blood would stain my cushions’ when he heard Anakin groaned, just slightly. Now this little bastard was finally out. Obi-Wan felt faintly relieved.

He was always bad at fighting Anakin. He’d failed twice, including tonight. Twice was already enough to tell.

And Anakin had called him Ben. Ben without a family name, in the story Anakin himself made up last time, was just a British geek who came to NYC for business, that kind of man who would let a wounded dog sleep at his place for one night. No matter what.

_ -“You quite like me, don’t you?” _

Obi-Wan unbuttoned the boy’s shirt, and almost frowned at that nasty wound.

Another scar in the future, and bandages from him for the bloody second time.

- _Or you might already have died twice, boy._

Anakin didn’t leave by noon the next day, he didn’t even wake up.

Last night after bandaging the boy’s wound, He carried him to the master bedroom. Another action he couldn’t explain, to generously share a bed with his miserable enemy.

Anakn was unconscious by the time he transferred him to the bed, head burning and limp against his shoulder, and as heavy as he remembered. Obi-Wan cursed himself again.

And that was one of the toughest nights he’d spent, even though Anakin was quiet and still. They were barely touching at first, but Obi-Wan could feel the raging heat from the other side of the bed, it distracted him, very much.

He changed his position, half sitting and half lying in bed. He started to stare at the painting on the opposite wall and count the stars on it. He never noticed there were so many stars on the painting, Cody bought it for his birthday years ago, said it would calm his mind at night, but he used to sleep in the complete darkness.

He left a dim light today though, maybe that’s the reason why he was still up. He couldn’t help but wanted to check if this little bastard was still breathing. He checked on him three times before realizing he was a little bit overreacted.

Eventually he gave up and shifted back into the mattress, slid his arms around Anakin’s shoulders, pulling him closer when the boy started to shiver, and he never fell asleep for a second after that.

Bad ideas, bad decisions. And god damn Anakin Skywalker.

How could he fall asleep when the boy’s lips were against his neck anyways?

And his hot breath...

“What are you thinking of?”

Picture disappeared. Obi-Wan looked up at Kix, his face felt hot, Kix was just smiling.

“Nothing.”

And now he’s even standing in his personal doctor’s apartment with these two impressive dark circles under his eyes.

Normally he loved afternoons in New York City, time when he felt relaxed and not when he usually had to work; And he loved the block where Kix lived, Dumbo, with that splendid Manhattan Bridge view and all those exotic restaurants and bars, he would love to go for a drink with Kix if he was not in hurry.

But hurry for what?

He cleared his throat.

“I need antiphlogistic medicine, by injection.”

“You seem tired, not sick.”

“...my neighbor’s dog is dying.”

There was a berief silence.

Then Kix snorted, “And why the hell you made saving it your job, huh?”

“That is a very beautiful dog, Kix.”

He blinked, said it in a dramatic way, Kix started laughing.

“Alright then.” His friend sounded satisfied, if not convinced, and handed him the medicine.

“Well...”Kix started, eyes on him:”Normally, only 1ml would do for little puppies, and 2ml for big dogs like grown German shepherd, and....

“5ml, for an adult human.”

Obi-Wan nodded thoughtfully.

“I appreciate.”

He took the medicine, put them in his pocket, and strode to the door.

“No attachments, Obi-Wan!”

He stopped, turned his head and looked back at Kix.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“To the dog, you know...”

“Of course.” He smiled, while closing the door,”You know I’m not a pet person.”

Fuck you Kix, fuck you.

Anakin was still sleeping when he arrived at home, and much to flag the point of his concern, the boy looked worse and became less responsive than the previous night, and his temperature too high.

Obi-Wan sighed, partly to the boy’s condition and more to his fucking mind. He hadn’t figured out what on earth he was doing right now. They were enemies, after all. But the first time he’d let the boy live, and this time he even started to save his life. And he had a feeling for him, he knew it, not a strange empathy anymore.

He took off his coat, inched closer to Anakin’s bedside. The water he put on the nightstand before leaving stayed untouched. He tugged Anakin into a half sitting position and raised the glass near the boy’s lips.

“You need to drink some water. Things will get worse if you’re dehydrated.”

He said, voice cold and tone impatient for no reason. He was not sure if Anakin heard him, but he swallowed some water anyway.

He should have offered the boy something more effective than hot choco Rum last night, if he knew how bad he was hurt. But Anakin was so good at hiding. He didn’t even let out a groan before the deal was made and he passed out. And Obi-Wan couldn’t imagine how the boy managed to escape from wherever he was and show up in front of his door. Being stabbed like that, he might collapse anywhere and be found dead the other morning.

Maybe he got used to that, the pain; or maybe he was born this tough.

Obi-Wan thought while he was settling Anakin back to the sheets comfortably.

Then he jabbed the business end of the syringe into Anakin’s shoulder.

5ml antiphlogistic, for an adult human.

His little friend muttered something he didn’t catch. Sighing again, he smoothed away the damp strands of the boy’s hair.

Obi-wan sank into the armchair, let his head fall back against the headrest. He was really tired now. Tired, and really confused.

He wondered what his “colleagues” would react when they saw him like this...babysitting someone. It’s like pushing him to make a cake in the shape of a gun.

Cody would laugh at him, only when out of his sight; Kix would say something really annoying, lecturing him cliches about attachments like he did less than one hour ago. And Mace, Mace would roll his eyes wildly and hard, fire him without hesitation if he knew the one he was nursing was Anakin Skywalker.

Never mind.

He didn’t really care.

Now he had time to study Anakin carefully. In spite of the waxy paleness, he looked stunning, and even younger when he was sleeping with his cracked lips slightly apart. He looked like a teen. The most beautiful that kinda teen you could expect though.

Obi-Wan closed his eyes.

He found himself asking a question inside his mind automatically. He already had too many questions today...

But what if all these happened between him and other Sith? Would he do the same he had done for Anakin?

What if it was Grievous?

He almost laughed out loud.

No, Grievous wouldn’t try to act as a prostitute at the first place, he would just hold four guns together pointing at him and start a fight. And Obi-Wan would kill him, end of the story.

No one would be as dramatic as Anakin, no one would be so complex and mysterious, make him so curious and confused.

He wondered if Anakin was trained specifically for him, if not being too arrogant.

Obi-Wan must have fallen asleep at some point, or he wouldn’t be jerked awake by the sudden tug at his sleeve.

Now Anakin was staring at him. He looked still groggy, as if only cracking eyelids had cost him.

“Well?”

He asked. He waited.

“Palpatine...”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes.

“Okay kid, now that I know you’re still drug high...”

He didn’t finish his sentence before a stronger tug pulling him down from the armchair, and he nearly lost balance and fell to his knees in front of the bed.

His face was now just inches away from Anakin’s.

Close enough that he could feel Anakin’s much cooler skin, could see the cold wise light back in the boy’s eyes.

His heart dropped.

“No, you listen Palpatine...”Anakin swallowed, “The bombs you ordered me...to put inside Jedi office building are all settled...”

“They’re gonna explode on time in 40 minutes.” 


	2. Anakin

The truth was he couldn’t process those mixed uneasy emotions all at once. Not now when he was sitting unsteadily on Obi-Wan Kenobi’s couch.

Humiliation came first. Same as three months ago when he woke up in the presidential suite at Four Seasons and found out he had to pay for one night’s stay, a bottle of Petrus, a broken wine glass and blood stained sheets.

The receptionist was embarrassed when she mentioned the blood, as if she’d never seen so much of it even for female customers. She explained he had to pay for extra.

He just smiled, stabbing out his PIN.

“Well...it happens when you just had the best sex in your life and you happened to be a  masochist.”

He blinked, acted like he didn’t care at all, but he swore to god if anyone at reception showed a hint of ridicule he would poke their eyes out with the ballpoint in his hand.

He felt as same humiliate as that time. If not more.

And he was frightened too much, feeling betrayed too much.

Next’s confusion, as now he watched his “sadist” stepped closer and handed him something smelled like chocolate.

“It would help with your sleep.” 

Obi-Wan Kenobi said it in a tone just like saying “make yourself at home.”

God the man was still so unreadable.

Anakin thought annoyedly, he took the cup without asking if it had been poisoned like last time.

Because what’s the difference anyway?

He was bleeding again, he was hurt too much even just to inhale, and Kenobi in front of him was starting to become blurrier by second.

If it had been poisoned, it was doing him a favour.

“Why do you think I need a rest?”

He still asked this stupid question though, the subconscious self defense, almost out of his nature.

1.5 seconds later Anakin regretted. His brain worked slowly now but eventually it finished analyzing the current situation and warned him that he was not in a position to provoke the man.

Never argue, better even not to negotiate.

He should have begged like a dog.

-

Anakin planted three bombs successfully in the Jedi office building two hours ago.

By successfully he meant no recognization, no suspicion, and no unnecessary fights. He stayed low key when he sneaked in, stole a uniform from security room, pulled the cap low enough and hid his eyes in the shadow of its brim.

No one stared at him longer than they should have.

Except for several girls who looked like interns. But that’s for other reasons.

Anakin got used to that.

He smiled back.

25 minutes later he walked right out the front door like everyone who worked here, wearing another nice suit he “borrowed” randomly from an unlocked office.

Exactly in his size, all-black matched his white shirt, happened to be clean and neat.

He thought he’d got some luck today.

Then his phone rang.

“Something’s wrong, Savage is in danger, cops on the way...”

Anakin started to run to the parking lot before he knew it, Ventress was still speaking, explaining there was business to be done but the contact suddenly became demanding and raised the price, Savage got pissed so he pulled the trigger.

“Idiot!” He cursed to his steering wheel: “Where is he now?”

“Near Lincoln Center but he’s moving, I’ll keep you updated.”

Now his nice suit, white shirt and brogues were all bad ideas.

“On my way there too.” He heard Ventress paused, he knew the woman was taking a drag on her cigar. He counted to three, patiently. Then she spoke again:“It's gonna take us some time to...transfer our stuff and drop the body...”

“Keep the cops busy until it’s all cleared.” Ventress said as if it was easy, and as always, she hung up before he could respond, “You know only you can do it, chosen boy.”

-

He spent one second thinking about those cops he knocked out and left in the alley. 

Then kenobi’s cold hand was on his neck. He almost shivered and eyes back at the man, sweat dripping from his jaw.

There was a pause. They stared at each other in silence. His eyelids felt heavy but he forced them to stay wide open, observing the man quietly.

It was Kenobi who winced first when Anakin was so focused that he started seeing stars.

“You’re bleeding, kid, and burning up.”

Anakin looked away, he snorted.

Now he had good news and bad news.

Good news was Obi-wan Kenobi looked more perplexed than annoyed. The man literally had frowned more than 10 times since Anakin entered the apartment. He bet Kenobi had thousands of questions but chose to stay silent. Instead he offered him the drink, checked his temperature, most of time just kept stealing looks at the blood on his shirt.

Thoughtfully somehow also pityingly.

Anakin could use that.

He sank into Kenobi’s overstuffed olive green couch and stretched his legs. The carpet under his feet felt warm and fluffy. He tried not to groan to all the soft sensations at the moment. They were weakening him, making every single cell of his body beg for a rest.

Bad news was he’s really, really getting close to his limitation.

Anakin raised one forearm to cover his eyes. Everything in this fancy apartment was spinning. It made him nauseous.

“Obi-wan...”He started, had no idea why he’d called the man’s first name. That sounded oddly intimate, but he continued anyway. It felt easier to ask for staying one night after Anakin found out Obi-wan was actually quite worried about him. He asked warily, promised to leave by noon, trying not to sound too vulnerable or desperate.

The tension was still there, even more when he didn’t get any respond from the other man. He kept his eyes closed, feeling Obi-wan’s invisible gaze three feet away.

Sympathy’s not enough, he told himself in mind. The man was waiting for something in return, that’s how men like him made the trade fair.

Anakin let out a heavy breath.

“And you could have me if you want.”

_ \- I have nowhere to go, but then I saw you, I was wondering if I could sleep at your place, Sir? _

He couldn’t help but remembered what he had said to Obi-wan the night he met him at Rockefeller Center.

Time when they were both undercover, when Obi-wan was easily fooled and pleased, when he was reckless and acting dissolute...

“You are not a prostitute.” said Obi-wan-at-present. Anakin smiled.

Still tough, he had nowhere to go.

He remembered the man he called Ben tensed his thigh when Anakin put a hand on it. He remembered the kisses Ben gave him that night, those wanting ones, those angry ones.

“You quite like me, don’t you?” He asked dryly, Obi-wan raised a hand as if he’s finally done with this conversation.

“Enough nonsense...now I need to get you stitched up.”

With no more explanation, the man walked closer, stood between him and that glass-and-steel coffee table, and bent down to help him take off his suit.

If Anakin got any strength left he would refuse this kind of help. It’s so humiliating after all. Obi-wan’s face was literally too close that he could smell the man’s aftershave and cologne. All was soft, he blinked slowly, his mind hazier.

And god the suit. The suit he borrowed from Jedi Office when he planted the bombs there. It felt centuries ago. But how could he beg for help to a man and plan to blow his basement at the same time?

He thought incoherently, felt overwhelmed all of a sudden, and came up with a conclusion that he was actually more evil than the man in front of him.

Anakin must have made a sound, because Obi-wan looked up at him.

“How about thank you?” Obi-wan asked carelessly as he pulled Anakin’s arm out of the sleeve, in a slow and gentle way.

“Thank you..Ben...”

Until the suit was fully in Obi-wan’s hand, Anakin allowed himself to lie down on the couch, shakily curled in a ball.

Did he just call Obi-wan Ben? Stupid...

He lost consciousness the moment he closed his eyes.

Everything after that was foggy, and so far away. He faintly remembered the bite of a needle near his abdomen, the cold compress from his neck to collarbone. They were all supposed to be sharp but he didn’t feel that much. Then a long time later he perceived being held in someone’s arms. Whoever he was, this person beside him was far warmer than other things wrapping around. He tried his best to shift closer until there was no more space between them. He drifted deeper.

_ —— He was running. Through 103rd Street Station, then up the stairs two at a time. The cops were not so far behind. _

_ “Ventress...” He managed to get in touch with the woman, shouted several times at his earphone. Nobody answered. _

_ The wind was cold. He sprinted into an alley, pulling down all the trash cans. _

_ “Fuck Ventress there are too many of them.” Eight at least, all armed. _

_ There was still no answer. He closed his eyes for one second, then clenched his fist and turned back. _

_ The fight was tough and took forever. He was nearly worn out by the time he heard Ventress shouting back, three men at his feet. _

_ “...Where the fuck are you Skywalker?” _

_ “Near Acosta, damn. Meet me there!” He knocked out another guy. _

_ “On my way.” _

_ “Asajj...” _

_ They both paused, unconsciously held the breath. They waited, listened as the third voice cleared his throat. Palpatine. _

_ “More cops are coming Asajj. We have to retreat now.” _

_ He froze there. The call was cut off, a harsh busy signal instead. Cold air hit him. _

_ Then something sharp pierced his abdomen. _

Anakin woke with a start. The cold, dark alley was now replaced by a dreamlike high white ceiling. The twinge in his nightmare somehow lasted.

No, that was not a nightmare.

Squeezing his eyes shut, he took several deep breaths, his mind and pain became clearer by each. Anakin spent another three seconds figuring out where he was.

W 96th Street, Obi-wan’s loft apartment, in his bed, not on couch.

He struggled to roll over. The sheets around him were sticky with sweat and he smelled like burned ashes. He had no idea why on earth Obi-wan would let him sleep in bed.

Then he saw the man.

Well, this was a little funny though.

Not far from the bed, its real owner Obi-wan Kenobi was now nodding off uncomfortably in an armchair. His neck bent into a weird angle, his hands were hanging down.

The man was sitting so close that Anakin could reach him and see the rise and fall of his chest. It’s strangely smoothing.

And warm. As warm as the man’s embrace.

Anakin knew it was Obi-wan who kept holding him the entire night. Clearly.

He looked at thermometer and syringe on the nightstand, then the digital alarm clock. 4:17 pm, it showed. Far passed noon.

It overwhelmed him, again.

Coming to Obi-wan was a bet, being killed or saved half half. Yesterday when he knocked everyone out and was limping on the empty street like a stray dog, he called Ventress a million times, it never got through. His car was parked in Harlem where he couldn’t reach at this condition, taking a cab impossible. And the only person he knew who lived in Upper West was Obi-wan Kenobi.

It should have been the worst decision he’d made.

But now he was here, being bandaged well, tangled in a mess of sheets and blankets, watching his lifesaver-and-enemy sleeping unguarded in his reach.

Would that be a little bit illogical?

He almost lost in thought and kept staring at digital clock.

It looked like...a timer. A timer on bombs.

Bombs Sith ordered him to plant in Jedi Office.

So would a stray dog wag his tail to man who abandoned him? Or to man who passed by and left him food?

Suddenly he had so many questions, but Anakin thought he knew the right answer, the reasonable answer.

He reached out a hand and grabbed Obi-wan’s sleeve.

_\- “Still need to find something to pay you back though_.”

But not directly, he still needed to go back to Sith, for now. He could not become an intended betrayer, for now.

Just slightly wagging the tail. Just a feverish slip of tongue.

He tugged, then Obi-wan was awake, those sleepy blue eyes were on him.

Anakin half closed his eyes at the exactly same time, as if groggily. He was not delirious any more, but he could be, when he needed to betray his side as well as protect himself.

“Well?”

“Palpatine...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hopefully it could explain some weird parts in chapter one...I’m sorry this fic was highly related to part one Rough Night which was written in Mandarin😓, and my English’s far away from good apparently, but I’m still so very grateful for all the kudos and comments Xx, happy new year in advance


	3. Obsession

A long time ago, somewhere far away from here, Obi-wan had learned some theory called Schrödinger’s Cat in his physics class. He couldn’t remember all the details or any complex science knowledge behind it, but it said a cat with a flask of poison in a sealed box could be considered simultaneously both alive and dead.

Two possibilities would be existing at the same time until the very moment someone looked in the box, then reality resolved into a specific result.

So for the first time Obi-wan hesitated in front of his own apartment.

He’d gone for two hours sorting out those  bombs, then hurried back when everything’s settled and before the sudden snowfall messed up the already crazy traffic.

Now it was dark and snowing outside, he was standing in front of his place, out of breath and deep in thoughts.

Slowly inserting the key and turning, Obi-wan could feel the muscle in his jaw tightening, his heart beating in a ridiculous way.

He knew what had been haunting him.

Two possibilities, whether Anakin Skywalker had left without saying goodbye.

One new realization, he really, really hoped the boy was still here.

He hoped in that experiment Schrödinger had hired someone who really hated cats to check the box.

For staying away from any potential disappointment.

Obi-wan opened the door.

Then he saw Anakin.

The boy was sitting on the couch, wearing his dirty shirt and suit pants. He’d turned to look at Obi-wan when he heard the door.

_ The cat was alive. _

“Hey...” Anakin said quietly, he stood up slowly with some soft gasps, and managed a kinda smile at him.

It felt a little bit awkward, and weird. But in fact everything would be weird if they were both fully sober and not fighting.

But Obi-wan couldn’t help smiling back, then he realized something inside him broke a little.

He swallowed hard, cleared his throat when he stepped in.

“How are you feeling now?”

He walked close enough to the couch to notice the boy was standing with bare feet. But still so tall, Obi-wan put a hand on Anakin’s shoulder, gently beckoning him to sit back.

“...Manageable. I guess.”

Not the word he’s satisfied with, but Obi-wan thought it was at least better than “bad” or “worse”.

His hand traveled to the boy’s cheek, Anakin didn’t wince, so he let it there for a heartbeat longer than necessary.

“And tell me you didn’t steal any of my booze when I was out.”

Anakin looked up, confused.

“Of course I didn’t!” He answered with an annoyed frown, Obi-wan chuckled.

“Good boy...” Forcing back the urge to stroke Anakin’s hair as a reward, he walked to the doorway and brought the takeout chicken soup to coffee table.

“Now eat something...” He said softly, holding out the painkillers out of his pocket, “then take the pills.”

There’s no true difference between this and feeding a pet. Obi-wan thought as he sat on the other side of the couch and watched Anakin taking a mouthful of soup, and then rice. The boy just looked quite bewildered at first when he offered him food, but never paused to question if it was poisoned, not like yesterday.

It almost terrified him the trust had been built between them invisibly and unconsciously after such a short time.

But also logical. They’d both saved each other once, hadn’t they?

God young people really ate fast. Obi-wan snorted and laughed at his conclusion. He never knew there was so much joy by only watching other people eat.

Anakin must have borrowed his bathroom and cleaned himself up, the color was now back on his face. He looked clean, tired but already in one piece. Even his curls softer, no more damp with sweat, and hid the faintest bruise on his temple perfectly.

And young people really healed fast.

He thought and let out a sigh, feeling guiltily disappointed and selfishly sad.

So fast that he knew the boy was gonna leave.

-

Thirty minutes ago.

Watching the bombs being found and defused, Obi-wan lit the cigarette that had been vised in his teeth.

Cody squinted at him, looking imperceptibly disapproved, as if the mere fire in a cigarette would restart those timers.

“They should have been already exploded.” He declared, Cody nodded, the man rubbed his face awkwardly, then took out a cigarette himself.

They were now slowly moving to the rooftop, 53rd floor of Jedi Building, where they could see the city splayed out.

A blast of cold air hit them when Cody opened the glass door. “God it’s freezing.” He complained, then sniffled. Obi-wan chuckled.

“It’s January.”

“Still though.”

They walked side by side to the edge in silence, Cody’s hands shoved deep in his pockets, as if he really cared about the coldness and prepared to rush back inside at any moment. But he just waited, patiently. The man knew Obi-wan brought him here for a reason, to say something secret away from the bomb squad. They’d got that unspoken understanding.

It’s getting dark. And all the buildings floating among skyline started to light up. From the nearest Chrysler to Upper East in the distance. Obi-wan sighed.

“Do you know we could see Four Seasons Hotel from here?”He asked blankly.

Cody dropped the cigarette between his lips and raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t know...I mean...maybe?”

“No, we literally could, you see...”He pointed in that direction,“East 57th, it’s not even far.”

“I don’t get it Obi-wan...”Cody frowned,“So?”

So, he couldn’t stop thinking about Anakin.

The boy who knocked on his door violently last night, leaning against its frame and looking at him with those watery eyes. The boy who called him Palpatine on purpose when talking about the bombs, his pretend hazy look and determination hidden behind. Even earlier this morning Obi-wan had left bed way more difficultly as that little bastard clutched his wrist with one hand. So tight and for so long like the pain had released out all the insecurities of him.

If to say Obi-wan was still confused about all those hours ago, he was not anymore. Cody had told him there was a failed trade for Sith yesterday on his way here. _ “They killed a man and dropped him in Hudson, beat up eight armed cops near Amsterdam Ave. Isn’t it quite close to where you live?” Cody had paused to ask, but Obi-wan didn’t answer. “Anyway, after that all the Sith ran to Staten overnight... _

_ “...All of them.” _

And until then, small pieces locked into each other like puzzles, then all made sense.

He felt something heavy suddenly weighted his shoulders.

“So...Cody,” Obi-wan heard himself saying firmly, “Later when you report this to Yoda and Mace, tell them we found the bombs ourselves. There’s no informant.”

Cody might question about the decision and wonder if Obi-wan wanted to take credit for it. But he didn’t care.

“And better if you could spread this word, to Staten...”He went on, Cody nodded thoughtfully.

“Let the sith know, we found the bombs ourselves.”

-

Obi-wan was so alone with his thoughts that he didn’t notice Anakin had already finished his meal, and was now studying him.

“You can ask me.” The boy muttered.

“What?” It drove his attention back.

“You’ve had lots of questions in mind since yesterday. I could tell.” Anakin reclined against the cushions a little, “You need to ask first so that I could answer you.”

No, he didn’t really have so many questions, he’d figured them out. And even if he had he wouldn’t waste their limited time for any unnecessary details.

So instead he asked:

“Do you like my shampoo?”

Anakin froze for a moment, obviously not ready for a question like that. The boy even bit his lower lip subconsciously. “Sorry, I used your bath-”

“It smells good on you.”

There was another brief silence. Anakin was gazing down at his fingers. Unlike Vader he used to play, Anakin in a sober state couldn’t quite deal with flirtations. Obi-wan just realized that.

Which was a little bit funny, considering he was the same boy who said “My last customer fucked me really hard” three months ago.

This complex, dramatic, poor little bastard.

“I told my boss there’s no informant for the bombs, that me and my team found them ourselves.” He said slowly, swallowed, “So I guess you’ll be safe. And I really appreciate, for you to tell me that.”

Anakin was looking back at him, studying him again.

It felt like several other unspoken questions and answers passing between them, bumping into each other silently in the thick air, then getting cleared themselves.

Anakin smiled. It was that kind of big and understanding smile. That “more like a grin” smile. Obi-wan felt something already broken inside him now even started to crack.

“It’s fair, you looked after me.” Finally the boy said, softly...

“...Thank you for not sending me to the police, or hospital, or to the Jedi.”

Actually he was about to, he meant that hospital part, if the boy kept sleeping semiconsciously for another hour or two.

He could take other risks, but not Anakin’s life. Obi-wan knew it better now, as he was Anakin’s last straw and only hope yesterday after this kid was abandoned. He almost ached recalling that miserable pale face struggling to stay awake and negotiate with him. 

All this was too much, too heavy to fail.

But he wouldn’t talk about this with Anakin, the boy still needed to rest, and Obi-wan also got enough serious conversations for today.

He took a deep breath and sank in the couch, grinning back at Anakin.

“So, I guess that entire ‘having you’ thing doesn’t count now huh?”

It meant to be a joke. But Anakin’s face was suddenly unreadable. He watched the boy stood up slowly, then limped towards him. In that way he could see Anakin was still in pain, small groans came along with every step he took. And when he was finally reaching where Obi-wan sat, he held out a hand on the couch arm to support a bit of his weight and bent down to put his face centimeters from Obi-wan’s.

Sweat was back on Anakin’s forehead, kinda sparkling under the light.

He just wiped it roughly.

Obi-wan’s mouth was dry. He decided to cancel his conclusion about Anakin was bad at flirting.

Actuallly he should have never defined Anakin, this boy was so unpredictable.

“I said, if you want, that counts too.” He heard that little bastard whispering near his ear, like a devil singing.

Then Anakin’s lips were on his.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always thaaaank you so much for all your comments and kudos, they made my day!!  
> And to anyone who might be curious, in this fic we have a top Obi-wan and a bottom Anakin ;) although I feel like it’s quite obvious Lol thank you all again


	4. Addiction

Long afterwards, he would get to know this kiss was another test from Anakin, another trap, bitter and sweet.

It was hot and wet, with a fierce passion and extra inviting tricks, Anakin’s hand stealing up to his neck. The boy’s fingers cold, but still burned him, stimulated him like electric current. Closing eyes, Obi-wan kissed him back.

This was nothing like the kisses they’d shared as Ben and Vader, while Vader was easygoing yet Anakin was stubborn. Obi-wan could tell the boy was aching again, Anakin trembled harder by second under his touch, moaning deep in his throat, but he didn’t pull away, the dizzying strokes of his tongue continued. Obi-wan almost froze.

He spent one second wondering if he should pick up the boy and let him sit on his thighs, but then when Anakin collapsed and knelt in front of the couch, wrapping around his neck with both arms and deepening the kisses, he felt his mind went completely blank.

_Devil’s tongue._ He thought incoherently. _And devil’s struggles and pain._ It felt already like a guilty pleasure. That fucking empathy’s working again, it aroused Obi-wan’s interest.

He wanted Anakin. Either on this coffee table or back in his bedroom. He wanted Anakin so bad.

_ Moroccan Spritzer, Gin and mandarin liqueur, was what Anakin tasted like. His boy passed the drink with mouth and tongue, then eased back and giggled. _

_ “What was that?” He swallowed the alcohol, asked with joy, His boy shrugged. _

_ “An invitation?” _

_ “You’ve been pretty naughty, Anakin.” _

_ He ran to him then they both fell onto bed. A loud crunch came with it. _

_ “I hate this motel, unacceptable facilities.” He complained. _

_ “Then good news I’ve already figured out our next destination.” Anakin cupped his face, kissed him gently:“Mombasa, how does it sound? It’s warm too...” _

_ “Well...gas up the car and we’ll leave this afternoon.” _

_ “But after this?” Anakin grinned teasingly, started to unbutton his own shirt. _

_ “Of course after this.” _

_ Cliche and cheesy but they did have a foreplay routine. He would always kiss Anakin’s scar in his abdomen first, the one he stitched up for him years ago, and Anakin would complain it was such an ugly, nasty scar. _

_ “Sorry that I was too concerned to make it beautiful.” _

_ “I still couldn’t believe you loved me already back at that time.” _

_ Then he would press his thumb to Anakin’s lower lip and melt into that soft hot sensation. _

_ “I’ve loved you since I met you.” _

_ It was not very true. They didn’t care. _

_ He loved watching Anakin groaning and screaming with pure pleasure when he was in him, he loved sharing a cigarette with him when they cuddling lazily after sex. _

_ He loved when Anakin pulled away and buried half his face into pillow every time when he was shy. _

_ Like this moment. _

_ “Come on!” He reached out a hand to toy with Anakin’s damp curls, the dry North Africa air had made them both sweaty. “Surely it’s not that hard. When you started to have a feeling for me?” _

_ “Then why you didn’t kill me at Four Seasons?” _

_ “You need to answer my questions first before asking a new one Anakin.” _

_ They always talked like that, he dug and Anakin beat around the bush. But this time his boy paused, as if determined, he propped up against the pillows. _

_ “You really want to know?” _

_ “I guess it’s pretty obvious.” _

_ And Anakin’s ocean blue eyes softened. _

_ “Do you remember first time when I kissed you in your apartment?” _

Long afterwards, he would get to know this kiss was a broken, insecure boy’s final test before he let down his guard. To see if Obi-wan would take advantage of him at his lowest, see if he would be abandoned again after that.

Obi-wan didn’t.

And that’s how everything started.

By the time he pushed away Anakin, the boy was already shaking uncontrollably out of pain, his sweat-dampened hair falling to plaster itself across his forehead.

Obi-wan felt suddenly pissed.

“What the fuck you think you’re doing here kid?”

He jumped up and shouted, weirdly unable to calm down:“And you think that’s why I saved you? Jesus Christ Anakin!...There’re thousands of real prostitutes in Manhattan, and I could bet there’ll be at least one prettier than you!”

Oh no, he should not have said the last sentence.

And God he hadn’t felt so pissed for ages.

Obi-wan kept his mouth open, but nothing more came out. Adrenalin coursed through him. He breathed heavily, feeling choked by his own words, and more importantly frustrated by Anakin’s opinion on him.

_ What the hell were they doing here? _

Passion not fully dispersed yet, tense and sticky in the air. A proof he’d nearly lost control. Obi-wan closed his eyes, made a fist and released it.

The room fell silent now, the only sound he could hear was Anakin gasping close by.

The boy was in so much pain, but he’d nearly lost control and hurt him more. Then he yelled at him as if he was some kind of saint and it’s all that boy’s fault. _Jesus Christ._

Deeply inside his heart Obi-wan didn’t know who he should be angry with, himself, or Anakin Skywalker, or maybe them both.

_ \- You quite like me, don’t you? _

_ \- No, I think I love you, but look at the mess we made. _

Obi-wan took a breath. He glanced down at Anakin, who’s been quiet, still kneeling in front of couch and shivering. He deflated almost instantly.

See, he was always bad at fighting Anakin.

With a sigh, he walked to his bedroom then soon emerged with a thick blanket, draped it around the boy’s shoulders as he knelt down beside him.

Hesitant, Obi-wan put his arms around Anakin and drew him into his embrace. He heard the low rumble of discomfort escaped the boy beneath his chin, then a soft, desolate sound:

“I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry, shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

He tightened his grip. He felt oddly emotional. He carded his fingers through those warm damp curls and buried his nose within them.

Obi-wan didn’t know either the smell of Anakin or his own shampoo smoothed him. He loosened up a little bit when he heard Anakin murmured.

“Thought you’d want it.”

He knew what the boy meant.

“Yes.” Obi-wan admitted, not surprise he could be this honest,“Yes, I want it Anakin, actually pretty much. And no, not now, not today...”

They held that uncomfortable position for several seconds longer like neither of them really intended to move. Eventually he pulled back a little, Obi-wan lifted Anakin’s head to meet his gaze.

“Listen boy, I asked you if you stole my booze because people will die if they drink alcohol and take painkillers at the same time; I had a very detailed file of you since three months ago, I double checked it today to see if you’re allergic to any antiphlogistic before I gave you the injection. I saved you because I just, simply, want you alive.”

_ You alive, then we’ll have time. I love you, so other things can wait. _

He didn’t let those last words burst though. They were intercepted, dried in his throat. His sanity told him it was too early.

Obi-wan raised a hand to smooth away the clinging strands from Anakin’s forehead.

Then he saw the boy smiled. For the first time, so warm and so relieved that Obi-wan felt his heart almost exploded, that he couldn’t help a softer, involuntary smile spreading in answer across his own face.

“I’m so hurt, Obi-wan.” 

And then unexpectedly, Anakin said, vulnerability in his voice, also for the first time. He was still smiling when he said it, like the pain was from others or he was contradicting himself. But when Obi-wan leaned over and held Anakin back into his arms, the boy’s head came down to rest a dead weight upon his shoulder almost immediately.

The overloaded closeness crashed him.

“I know kid, I know...”He replied automatically, “why not we just...go back to the bedroom and lay down together for a while?” Obi-wan heard himself suggested dryly.

And Anakin nodded against his shoulder.

“Why not...”

_ One day a devil met another devil on his way hunting. They both bellicose and proud so they started to fight instantly out of habit. They were so eager to kill each other that they embraced tightly, because only in that way their quills would stab deeply into each other’s body. It should have taken both of their lives but turned out their quills magically filled each other’s natural holes and blank spaces. They survived, then completed. _

_ Then they became a perfect match. _

Anakin was well-behaved and quite obedient all the way he led him back to the bedroom. Climbed into bed, sank on the nearest pillow, and watched silently as Obi-wan pulled the sheets over him gently. He’d also held the thermometer in his mouth long enough then took the pills without questioning anything.

And he smiled, after all this, in a way Obi-wan could tell the boy was saying thank you in mind.

“You’re welcome.”

Unlike Anakin, he’d said it out.

They paused, then giggled. At the same time.

Now they were laying together, millimeters away from each other, both alone with their thoughts and didn’t spoke for a while.

Obi-wan was counting the stars again. 76, now he knew. 76 stars, or better to say, planets, on the painting Cody bought him. It looked like it contained the entire galaxy in one picture, he’d never thought that way.

“Emm...Obi-wan?”

“What?” He answered quietly.

“Did you hold me last night?”

“Because you were shaking like a drilling machine...”

“Can you do that again?”

His smile was frozen for a moment. He even turned his head to look into Anakin’s eyes, but all there he could only find the pure need for his care and comfort.

So he slid an arm under the boy’s shoulders before he knew it. The touch of their skin was like a switch, he’d held a breath unconsciously when Anakin rolled over and edged closer to him until every possible inch of their bodies stuck together, from heads to toes.

He felt Anakin was nuzzling his chin. He started to stroke his hair in return, otherwise he didn’t know what else he could do.

“Feels good...”

Anakin said sleepily.

“Have a nap then.” His hand traveled to the boy’s back.

“Tell me something about you, Obi-wan, about what did you do before this. I know this job wasn’t your choice, you are a good person...”

Now this conclusion was far too much. But Obi-wan didn’t deny it. Instead he started to tell his early life in Scotland, how he met his big friend Quigon, how this dear friend got killed and how this made him kill someone for the first time. Obi-wan had stopped when the sound of Anakin breathing became slower and deeper, he knew the boy had dozed off at some point, that didn’t bother him. He pressed little kisses on his eyelids and lashes, gentle enough not to wake him up.

Anakin was still slightly warmer than him. Holding the boy this way was like holding a littler heater. It felt comfortable and safe. He wondered what it would feel like if he could wake up every morning like this.

_ Did he ask for too much? _

Obi-wan stared at the digital clock on nightstand blankly.

8:01 pm. 19 hours after Anakin showed up in front of his door.

That mere 19 hours which had gave him an 180-degree swing of life.

He was living like a ghost before then, now he was somebody’s good person, now he wanted to be a good person.

25 minutes late that “somebody” groaned and woke up in his arms, smiling shyly as he stifled a yawn with a hand.

“Sorry, I fell asleep...”

“Now why don’t you tell me about something in return Anakin?”

“What you wanna know then?” The boy sounded still sleepy.

“About what you’ve been concerning ever since yesterday.”

Obi-wan said firmly and Anakin tensed. There was a very short silence then Anakin began to speak. He told Obi-wan he just came to New York three months ago, he was living in Toronto before that, and that case at Rockefeller Center was one of his first several. He said he came here because Palpatine ordered him to kill Dooku and replace him, so there’ll be a vacant position in New York. But now the old man hired someone new, called Savage, Jamaican, skilled and strong. So he might be the next person being replaced.

Obi-wan didn’t know what to say at first, and he highly doubted if anyone could replace Anakin for any single part. The boy had sounded so sad and betrayed. How could a man didn’t even deserve him make him so miserable?

“Well, but as far as I know you’re a little bit too impressive to replace, Anakin.”

Eventually he’d said like that. It wasn’t even helping. He knew he needed to do more to show his point.

Obi-wan looked down and gazed at Anakin, then he drew him closer and kissed him.

They would have lots of kisses like that in the future. He just hadn’t known yet.

“You are a stupid, terrible, bad boy Anakin, but you have the strength nobody could have or be compared with. And you need to know better about it.”

“Because I’m just second to the prettiest prostitute in Manhattan?”

_Jesus_. Obi-wan laughed. “Fuck you Anakin, fuck you.”

They shared another kiss, a brief one. And this time Obi-wan clutched Anakin’s wrist with a far firmer grip than he realized.

“Another night Anakin, stay here. It’s snowing outside and you could barely walk.”

He suggested, he waited, until Anakin’s smile deepened into something softer.

“You know I can’t, Obi-wan.”

They walked quietly to the door, some time later, Anakin was wearing his suit back on. He felt choked at the moment, he wanted to complain even Cinderella could wait until 12 o’clock.

There they were, a quarter to nine. He had to let go of a boy he loved to all these uncertainties out there, to an enemy who didn’t treasure him.

“Anakin...”

He called. And the boy stopped and turned around.

Now what should he say?

Don’t get killed, don’t even get injured like this again, be cautious when you take showers, take the medicine until your infection is fully healed, watch out for Palpatine, come back to me anytime when you need me.

_ Come back to me. Come back to me. _

“Just..take care of yourself.”

Anakin nodded earnestly.

“I will and you too, Obi-wan.”

Now he really needed to let the boy go.

Fuck just let him leave.

Obi-wan stayed silent while watching Anakin limped out of his apartment, the door swung closed.

He knew the boy wanted to say something more too, he’d held back too.

Obi-wan started to bite his lip, hard. He kept biting it until it hurt and he could taste blood.

It was still not distracting enough to let him ignore the emptiness.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Omg guys I couldn’t believe I just finished my Very First English fiction woohoo! I wanna thank you for all your lovely feedback comments and kudos again! Couldn’t even get here without the encouragements I got from you, and I do hope you could enjoy this very last chapter and this entire story! XOXO


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